DrugBuyers.Com: Twas night before xmass thru rosey glasses

Twas the night before christmas
and all thru the house
nothing was stiring
not even my friggin tracking number
The bottles were stacked by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Fed Ex would soon would be there;

The hurting were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of oxy's danced in their heads;

And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long xanax nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a delivery truck, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Script.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Downers! now, Demeral! now, Percodan and Vicoden!
On, Clorizapam! on Xanax! on, Valium get Blitzed!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now stash away! stash away! stash away them all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the truck full of joys, and St. Nicotine too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicotine came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of joys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his sack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of skunjelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his pad,
And filled all the stockings; with all the scripts he had,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the nozzel he chose;

He sprang to his truck, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Scriptions to all, and to all a JOYOUS good-night."

Modified by
The Rhino

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spellcheckers are like wearing ties, I just say no :-)